“Tell me, barkeeper, where would I go to find myself a decent mercenary around these parts?”

A few locals turned their heads to look at Infineon as he spoke, his accent and his question showing without a shadow of a doubt that he was from out of town, and thus a potential a threat to their quiet evening tradition of drinking their worries into oblivion. However, dust covered and seemingly weapon-less as he was, Infineon drew little attention; he didn’t look like a troublemaker. The markings of the pantheon of Balance displayed prominently on his robes helped to make the watchers lose interest, as a priest travelling through town was hardly a rare occurrence these days, what with the fledgling City of Balance being newly founded to the east. After a moment of studying him, the barkeep seemed to come to the same conclusion as the patrons about the nature of Infineon’s request, smiling and surreptitiously removing his hand from the cudgel below the bar; after all, you couldn’t be too careful with strangers, no matter what god’s garb they wore.

“A marce’nary ye say? Ye muss be thinkin’ o’ tekin the loo rood…”The barkeep rambled on for a bit as Infineon stumbled to make sense of the local dialect, as the thick country accent made it hard to understand anything at all of the barkeep’s speech. Eventually, Infineon began to understand, and the man got around to answering Infineon’s question.“I think I might have seen a lone, shady type camping out near the edge of town. Rumour is that he came in wearing full metal armour and carrying a frightful large weapon.”The barkeeper leaned forwards towards Infineon and whispered to him in a conspiratorial manner, his eyes roving around the room as he did so:“Now, I ain’t seen him up close or anything, but I saw him leaving town by the east road, and by his size I’m sure he must be part giant…”

Infineon looked sceptically at the tiny stature of the man whispering at him and immediately discarded that rumour. In this fairly backwater town, he was sure the arrival of an armoured figure would have sparked off whispers immediately, and the tale would have grown exponentially as the tattletales picked up on the story. The arrival of two different sets of foreigners was sure to leave the gossipers of the town in a tither for weeks after they had left. Nonetheless, there was certainly some small grain of truth in the barkeep’s tale, and even a cloth-clad vagabond carrying a rusty sword would be a better addition to his company than nobody at all. Nodding to the barkeep and leaving a small coin on the table for his trouble, Infineon stepped back out onto the dusty street to the waiting carriage that sat outside the bar.

A sturdy yet fairly simple affair, the wooden carriage was large enough to seat two inside and constructed of thick timber beams, strong enough to resist a crossbow bolt even from close range, and easily able to turn aside blades. The slats for ventilation in the two doors were covered in a thin red cloth, obscuring the contents of the carriage from any viewers on the outside. The red of the drapes matched the colour of the rest of the paintwork, as even through the dust, the shining red and gold paint could be seen. The patterns of swirls and spirals that adorned the carriage walls surrounded a motif of a three pronged flame, proclaiming the carriage to be of the followers of Pyrakkha, Goddess of the Flames. The two guards, who stood nearby, grooming their horses, also bore the symbols of that faith. However, like the carriage, the bright red of the light armour they wore was dulled by the long trip through the dusty wastes, and both they and their horses sagged with weariness after the arduous trip; honour guards at best, Infineon knew that they would be little help in a fight, hence his continuing search for some decent guards. Knocking twice on the door of the carriage, Infineon spoke quietly to the people inside, explaining the situation to them. Receiving confirmation to go ahead with his plan, Infineon jumped up to the driver’s seat on the carriage and took the reins, starting the small convoy back on its way towards the edge of town.

There, hopefully, Infineon would find someone worthy of protecting the precious contents of the carriage on its way home along the dangerous road back to Daelubrium, the City of Balance itself.

Author:

Chase [ Thu Oct 10, 2013 8:56 am ]

Post subject:

Re: The Convoy Home (LSS2 + Chase)

Kylar sat on a rock by the side of the east road, his head in his hands as the morning sun drizzled over the horizon. His dark brown cloak was so tattered and stained that a good strong wind would probably rip it to shreds, but it still provide warmth when rapped really tight, like it was now. A chilly morning breeze ruffled his messy brown hair and wormed its way under the cloak, flapping it up and revealing the leather armour underneath. In contrast to the filthy cloak the leather appeared to be clean and even gleaned a little from a recent oiling. The hilt of a sword poking out of his belt was simple and unadorned, yet it too looked like it too was well maintained. In fact, the only piece of equipment that looked as bad as the cloak was the small wooden shield on the Mercenary’s back, which was covered in mud and had quite a few cracks running down it.

Now those who knew how a fighter’s mind operated would be confused by this poorly maintained shield, but Kylar had several reasons for this. Firstly, he had purposely caked the shield in mud so that the first time he whacked someone with it the dirt would break apart and get in his foes eyes, however the real reason he kept his shield dirty was because he hated it. A flimsy wooden shield of this calibre was a symbol of just how far Kylar had fallen. The fact that he could not afford even a small metal buckler showed that he was a disgraced fighter with no wealth or reputation to his name, and so he went out of his wreck it. If it broke apart, he could always just steal another barrel lid and string a rope through it.

Kylar groaned as the sunlight strengthen into a glare that was painful for his sensitive green eyes. Logically he knew that drinking a whole wineskin by himself was bound to make him feel this way, but for some reason he had yet to find a buddy that he trusted enough in this dark and dangerous land to share a drink with. Yesterday his mind had started reminiscing about his past, and he had needed something strong to drown out the painful memories that had resurfaced. Someday he would face his demons, but for the meantime he preferred to just stay in the now and look for a good fight to keep him distracted.

A rattling in the distance caught Kylar’s attention, and with a groan he lifted his head out of his hands and starred with red ringed eyes at the carriage approaching. Even in his current state his keen eyes where enough to make out the obvious wealth of the carriage and he wondered how a carriage like that could have made it so far through this rough countryside with only three men to protect it. Now, if this was the Kylar from 2 years ago he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from view and set up the perfect ambush, but he had buried that side of his personality along with his past. Therefore he decided to wait till they pulled close and see if they needed another joyrider on the suicide train, assuming they could pay and had lots of fresh water. He really needed some water right now.

If you wish to have an extended conversation, send me your character lines by pm and we will bash it out there. That should save quite a bit of time and allow for more character development.

Author:

Lord Sawsaw2 [ Fri Oct 11, 2013 2:57 am ]

Post subject:

Re: The Convoy Home (LSS2 + Chase)

The convoy got as many stares from the townsfolk while it was leaving the town as it did when it had arrived. Already, Infineon could see people whispering to each other as the carriage passed, carrying on the news of their passage. He sighed to himself. Every person of ill repute in the entire county would know exactly when they left and exactly how many people they didn’t have while protecting something of obvious value. And while Infineon couldn’t deny that what they were escorting was of immense value, he figured that if the inevitable highwaymen knew what the prize was, they’d probably be very disappointed.

Eventually, the convoy made it out of the city and moved on to the last known location of this mysterious mercenary that the bartender had told them about. The dusty town gave way to the even dustier plains that surrounded it. Infineon sighed again. It would be two uncomfortable days of travel until the plains gave way to the cultivated grasslands in the heart of the continent, and Infineon did not relish the time it would take for them to get there. As he pondered this, however, he sighted a man sitting on a rock, staring at them. Even from this distance it was obvious that by the shield on his back and the bulk of the armour under his tattered cloak that this man was their quarry.

Riding the horses to a stop nearby, Infineon jumped off the carriage and landed lightly on his feet, the cushion of air beneath him billowing outwards as he landed. Brushing himself down, he studied the man before him properly for the first time. His eyes took in the muddy wooden shield and the tattered, threadbare cloak and he blinked. Surely the barkeep must have been playing a prank on him; this man looked like nothing more than a disgraced militiaman fallen on hard times. On a closer inspection however, the powerful set of his shoulders, the glimmer of well-kept leather armour and the functional and well-worn hilt of a simple sword at the man’s belt all served to convince Infineon that this man was worth more than the sum of his clothing would suggest.

Signalling that his guards should come down from their horses and take a short rest, Infineon strode towards the man, taking in the finer details as he went. Up close, Infineon’s suspicions were confirmed. This man was a rare find as mercenaries went, though obviously on hard times; the drained wineskin at his side doing more to cement that particular idea. Given the trip ahead, it would be good to get this man on board. Approaching the man, Infineon stopped and clasped his fingers together to form the eight pointed star of a traditional greeting.

“May Balance be with you, Stranger. You must be the so called ‘giant’ they can’t stop talking about in town…”

Author:

Chase [ Tue Oct 22, 2013 2:47 am ]

Post subject:

Re: The Convoy Home (LSS2 + Chase)

Kylar laughed before replying "You must have met that big man from the pub. His grasp on reality is almost as bad as his wine. Got any water?"

The stranger raised an eyebrow, noticing the empty skin and grinned, "Well you would certainly know better than most about the quality of his wine.” Kylar laughed as the man tossed him a water skin before he also laughed, "We've got water aplenty for a fellow traveller; particularly one we've an interest in hiring."

Kylar ignored that jib as he caught the water skin and started to drink deeply. After finishing the whole skin in less than a minute he burped slightly and wiped his face. "Thanks, I needed that. And I'm up for hire, if the price is right. Standard caravan guard fare, plus a bonus for each foe I have to slay. The more unnatural the foe, the larger the bonus."

The stranger grinned as he took back the water skin, obviously glad to be talking business. "I'll give you standard guards wage, minus your travelling expenses, and half of your bonus for every kill, but you can keep any loot. Sounds fair?"

Kylar returned the strangers grin. "You have a deal. I just hope travelling expenses involves some more decent food then beef jerky and stale bread." He slowly stood up and stretched, before dusting his hand off and holding it out to the stranger. As they shook on the deal, he said "The name's Kylar. So what do I call you?"

"Kylar eh? A pleasure to have you with us. I am known as Infineon, you can make your introductions to our fellow travellers as we travel. Given your obvious lack of a horse, you can ride on top of the carriage if you would like. Just don't open the door if you know what's good for you." Despite the smile with which the last comment was spoken, Kylar could tell that Infineon was serious about this particular order, so he figured it would be best not to take it lightly. He followed Infineon to the front of the carriage while looking over the other two guards.

“Nothing personal, but I hope you can handle yourself betters then these two. They look like toy soldiers that should have never left the parade field. Are your superiors trying to get you killed and your burden stolen?”